


Building Storm

by CaptainDeryn



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/M, Rogue Percy, Royalty Annabeth, captured trope, escape trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainDeryn/pseuds/CaptainDeryn
Summary: Annabeth was born into royalty. Formality and diplomacy have never sat right with her. Escaping into the streets had become a growing addiction to freedom, and in the euphoria she met Percy Jackson--a roguish commoner with a heart of gold. From fast friends to lovers, the years have been kind to them.Until Percy is caught and dragged into the jailors cells of the kingdom. In trying to escape, a single mistake leaves them both in danger and left with nothing. Fatal flaws always have a habit of coming through in the worst places.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	Building Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> This is the rewrite of 2012 me's fanfic Rebel's Rise (don't bother trying to find it :P I archived it in my google drive when I re-branded from Folan to Deryn). I found this scene while rereading the fic and wanted to take a crack at writing it, 8 years later. I haven't written these characters in literal years, but oh well!  
> \--  
> *A note: Percy and Annabeth are in their early twenties in this fic

Twenty-four hour guards. A maze of hallways that were barely understood by castle staff themselves. One of the most guarded prisoners the kingdom had seen in years. 

These were the odds that Annabeth faced, and they weren’t promising. She needed a plan, Athena’s daughters  _ always  _ had a plan, but worry for the man buried deep beneath the castle cells in old, dank cells fueled her mind from logical progression into overthinking overdrive. If only Percy hadn’t been so reckless--no, if they  _ both  _ hadn’t been so reckless--then perhaps they wouldn’t have been caught. He would still be outside these walls, clutching his freedom until she found a way to gain hers. 

For at least an hour there was a changing of the guard, that would be her chance. The cells would be patrolled less, the bottleneck hallway left open. She only had to hope that Percy was in the cell block that she wagered her plan on. The tattered note, tucked in her brassiere, hadn’t laid out his exact location in coordinates. 

Without any knowledge of the castle, Percy would never be able to make his way out of here alone, yet if she were to be recognized with him then it would be over for them both. 

“Gods damn it!” Annabeth exclaimed, smacking a pillow off her bed as she passed it, pacing a groove into her floor. The pillow hit the wall, slumping over onto the ground with a sad  _ thump _ . Fingers itching with the need for action, she raked them through her hair, clutching the blond curls in her fingers as if the discomfort would force her neurons to start firing a plan into existence. 

Her eyes drifted back to the note she had tossed on her desk. It had fallen dangerously close to the lone candle providing weak reading light, the wax maxing a slow path towards the paper. Snatching it up, she smoothed the crumbled paper against her thigh before smoothing it back over her desk and leaning in to read it. The candlelight flickered over the scratchy, rushed handwriting, making it almost impossible to decipher. She didn’t need the paper to know what it said, she’d committed it to memory from the number of times she’d scoured the letter after it had been slipped into her hand. 

It read: 

_ Annabeth (or whatever eyes read this), _

_ I’ve messed up now. If you’re getting this note, that should be obvious. I was being tailed and I didn’t realize that until it was too late. If I had known then I would’ve covered by tracks better.  _

_ If you are Annabeth, then I know you saw me last night. I saw you too. Maybe I shouldn’t have lashed out at the guard, but I am just so  _ done _. So tired of constantly looking over my shoulder.  _

_ I know you though, and I know you’re going to be trying to think me out of this. Don’t. Don’t worry about me and get yourself into more trouble. I’ll get out of this, even if it means fighting my way out. There has to be some way to get past these guards. _

_ If that doesn’t work then…[ _ something has been scratched out to the point of being illegible] _.  _

_ I’ll see you after I’m out of this,  _

_ -Percy _

Trusting Percy not to do something reckless was a bit like trusting a squirrel to run a house--in which, it never happened. For a man who had survived outside the king’s laws for as long as he had, he had a certain flair for “act first, think later”. But there had to be something of his thought process in his letter. 

“Guards changing...there’s always that door--no, that’s always guarded…” she mused before breaking off with a frustrated growl. There had to be something. Unless...Percy’s off the cuff plans had always been crazy enough to work. If she could just get to him, then perhaps they could kick start an escape together. 

With the hourglass dripping time away in a steady stream, it was the best idea she had. 

Armed with only her knife tucked into a holster on her belt, hidden beneath the draping fabric of her tunic, she slipped into the dreaded hallways under the cover of dusk. Her family believed she had taken to her room with a headache--an age old trick that should have fooled no one. No one paid attention long enough to question it and for once their density was a blessing. 

Inching the doors to the cell blocks open with an excruciating slowness, holding her breath as if to hold in any squeaks the ancient door would make, she wrinkled her nose at the rank smell of old sweat, dirty bodies, and misery that wafted from the depths. Compared to the dry chill of the stone walls and floors, the earthen cell block’s chill was damp and heavy, weighing her down as she walked down the stairs. The only light offered was from sconces with candles burned into wax lumps, the orange glow weak and flickering at best. 

“Percy?” she called as loudly as she dared when the floor finally leveled out. Dried hay from the cells rustled around her feet. All around her in the shadows chains rattled, clothes rustling as bodies all turned to face the new voice. It sent a shiver down her spine, hearing movement without being able to see its origin. When she didn’t get a response, her voice quavered, “Seaweed Brain?” 

“Annabeth?” In a cell directly to her left, from the deepest shadows cast by the lone torch, his familiar voice swept over her. Pivoting sharply, her breath  _ whoosed  _ out when she saw his face. Maybe it was just the light, but it looked dark with bruising along his jaw, the knuckles that gripped the bars of his cell split and bloody. But he was there and he was safe, for now. They could get out of this. 

“What’re you doing down here?” he asked, though in the low light his eyes gleamed with hope. Whatever conviction he had written his ‘ _ don’t worry about me’  _ with had died as the day waned. Acutely aware of the heavy walls and the suffocating darkness, Annabeth could see how hope would stifle. 

“Do you have an escape plan?” 

Annabeth’s mouth had suddenly gone dry, wedging anything she wanted to say in her throat. She had spent a few hours sitting in Percy’s position when she was fourteen, after she had been caught spending time with one of the prisoners that had been her age. Percy had already been down here twice as long as her. Desperately she wanted to offer him some salvation. 

“Not yet.” Holding his gaze, she waited for his expression to harden, for disappointment in her to cross his face. She had always been the smart one, the one who always had the games, the brilliant plans for adventure. Failing now was unacceptable. 

Instead she just found worry, and that was infinitely worse. 

“You shouldn’t have come down here.” Percy said. “I told you to stay away.” 

Annabeth bristled, brows drawing tight and low over her eyes. “Oh? I was just supposed to leave you down here? I can get you out of here, I promise.” 

“If the king finds you down here, then you could get hurt.” 

“Percy that isn’t the  _ point _ !” Her voice seemed to bounce off the walls, dropping like stones when footsteps and rattling came from upstairs. They looked at each other with wide eyes. 

Gesturing wildly off to the side, Percy hissed, “Annabeth, run, hide, do  _ something _ !” 

He shoved his hand between the bars, waving her aside. On a desperate urge to reassure him, Annabeth seized his hand, gripping his fingers tight in hers. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles, trying to pour as much resolve as she could into the look she sent to him. “I will get you out of here, I promise.” 

“Annabeth,  _ go _ .” 

The glow of firelight was growing brighter along the walls, turning black dirt from red to gold. She looked around, backing up closer to the center of the room. She wouldn’t be able to run past the guards coming down the stairs, they were too narrow. Glancing at the lock on Percy’s door, she wondered if she had time to break it. The two of them had a better chance of overpowering the guards. 

But there was nothing around them that could break the lock or be used to pick it. If only she had tied her hair up with the elaborate hair pins that were so favored by those around her. 

Today was a growing list of errors and mistakes that someone who claimed she was as smart as she did shouldn’t have made. Gods above help her. 

There was no time to plan  _ anything _ . Too many ‘ _ should haves’  _ were vying for space where her logic should have settled. The footsteps approaching sounded like claps of thunder, shaking the ground of conviction she was standing on. 

Without a choice, she melted back into the shadows. The walls were cold against her back, moisture bleeding through the back of her tunic. She just hoped the shadows were deep enough to hide her. 

Annabeth held her breath, too afraid to even exhale, as the guards breached the base of the stairs. Their torches cast their faces in deep shadows, sinking their eyes into black hollows and their cheeks to knive’s edges above shadow. The pool of the torches’ light very nearly reached her toes, and one wrong look would expose her. 

From over the guards’ shoulders, Percy was watching her. A thought flit across his face and by the time Annabeth realizes the intention behind his eyes flitting to the guard it was too late. Percy had already surged up against the bars, seizing the nearest guard by the seams of his armor. The metal made a horrible clang as it connected with the bars of the cell. It’s noise nearly canceled out Percy’s shout, “ _ Go! _ ” 

The torch fell to the ground, spluttering against the floor. 

Annabeth could feel the heat of it as she ran by. A guard lunged towards her, catching her sleeve between his fingers. He swore as his hold slipped, nearly stumbling onto the torch. She didn’t look back when the pressure of his hand released, sprinting up the stairs fast enough that her feet almost went out from under her. 

She didn’t stop running until she reached her rooms, breezing past the odd looks and  _ tsks  _ that followed her charge. Her hands fumbled for her door when she ran into it, using her weight to shove it ajar. It slammed into the opposite wall, groaning as it swung closed. 

Like a bat tearing out of hell, Annabeth attacked her room. She didn’t know what she was looking for, there wasn’t some lucky charm that would save the day, but she needed  _ something.  _ Papers slid off her desk, sketches and notes flying across the floor. Drawers nearly came out from the hinges as she yanked the open, rifling through them with fever. 

“I need  _ something _ !” she growled, planting her hands on her desk as she came up short handed. She needed to  _ think _ . 

Her breath was ragged, a sharp stitch forming in her side. An acrid stench nearly choked her, catching in her throat. It smelled like when the cooks would burn something in the kitchen below.

Burning.  _ Burning _ . 

Annabeth wheeled towards the door, eyes widening. The torch she had charged by--that the guard had nearly fumbled over. The hay scattered across the floors, dried material that had never been cleared out. 

_ No _ . A noise that didn’t feel human escaped her as she pushed off her desk, running out the door.

The smell only got stronger as she ran down the hallway. People were shouting, swarming towards the exists. Guards were shouting above the growing din, waving their hands towards the grand doorways. 

Annabeth shoved her way through them, taking left turns and rights until the jailors hallway loomed in front of her. 

Smoke billowed from the stairwell, thick and dark. It swept over Annabeth and her lungs seized, nearly buckling her over in a fit of coughing. The orange glow of flames licked around the edges of the hallway. 

“Percy?!” Panic laced her shout. She couldn’t see beneath the smoke, would Percy even still be alive? Beneath she crackling roar of the flames she thought she heard hacking. “ _ Percy!” _

Tugging the collar of her shirt up over her mouth and nose, she dove into the smoke. She missed a stair, her leg going out from under her. A sharp pain went through her tailbone as she landed. Scrambling, she got her legs back under her and stood. From below a sharp clang echoed up to her. Seconds ticked by, the smoke thickening as she took another step, and then a shadow was materializing. A Percy-shaped shadow, taking the stairs two at a time. His arm hooking around her waist as if on instinct and dragging them both up the stairs faster than Annabeth could register what was happening. 

They made it several steps back, stumbling more than running when the ground flattened, before they stopped.

With the momentum ceased, Percy’s legs began to buckle, deep, hacking coughs. 

“Not so fast.” Annabeth caught him, her arm around his face and his weight falling on her shoulder. He’d always been taller than she was, and even with her standing as tall as she could, he was still uncomfortably bent. He smelled of smoke and singed hair, his face covered in soot. “You’re alright.” 

Breath coming in gasps, he wheezed out what almost sounded like a chuckle. “That’s...debatable.” 

Annabeth’s fingers clenched in his shirt, taking a few wobbling steps. He was unsteady and she had to haul him with her. “Come on Seaweed brain, I’m getting you out of here.” 

His steps stuttered and she tightened her grip, but he dug his heels in. “Annabeth, you can’t.” 

Head whipping around to look at him, his brows knitted. “Of course I can, now come  _ on _ .” 

“If you leave now, you can’t come back.” Percy pulled back enough to look at her, eyes dark. “You  _ can’t _ .” 

He was impossible. If they wanted to get out, they needed to keep walking now. The guards would catch them, someone would see them, if they didn’t get moving. And yet he was just standing there, looking at her with sad eyes. Face darkened by soot, breath wheezing, and it was her fault. She needed to fix it, she had  _ promised  _ to get him out. 

“Percy,” she growled. “I  _ will _ get you out of here, okay? That’s not negotiable.” 

Seizing his collar, she tugged him down to kiss his cheek, murmuring in his ear, “I know what I’m doing.  _ Please _ come with me.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Percy breathed. 

He was always so damn loyal, so willing to give up everything without expecting the same from her. It was infuriating. 

“I can take care of myself--” 

His hands fumbled for her shoulders, knotting in her collar. Sea-green eyes stared at her from underneath the ash and singed hair, willing her to understand  _ something _ she was refusing to see. “I know you can.  _ Gods  _ I know. You will lose everything for me--you can’t.” 

What would she lose if she went with him? Her status? The secret ins and connections that could help her? She could build those herself, on her own  _ merit  _ and with  _ him  _ by her side. It was a small price to pay if they both got out alive. 

There was no alternative to them both leaving. There was only loss. 

“I can.” She brought her hands up to grasp his forearms tightly. “And I’m going to, please let me. We need to leave.” 

Percy’s eyes searched hers, a war going on in their depths, before he bowed his head. He stepped back until her hands found his. She twined her fingers tightly around his and when she tugged lightly, an unspoken question, he stepped with her. When this time she squeezed his fingers, he looked up at her. 

“We’re going to make it.” she promised, a will of iron in her voice. “And it’s going to be better.” 

The smallest smile he offered her, a shadow of it’s usual crooked glory, felt like a gift. His steps were assured as he fell into step with her as she hugged the wall. The halls now were almost deserted; they just needed to reach the back exit. “I trust you, Wise-Girl.” he rasped. “Always.”

The moment they broke out of the hazy hallways into the clear air, felt like a new beginning. The village stretched before them, the woods looming on three sides. Commotion was barely able to reach them from the otherside of the estate and before them stretched a path of freedom, if only they could avoid recognition. 

It was a beautiful, achingly tempting, new beginning. Percy’s hand clung tighter to her, his shoulder resting against hers. “Are we really doing this?” 

“We are.” she squeezed his hand, running a thumb over his calloused knuckles. He looked down at her and his smile was bright in his soot-darkened face, practically brighter than the sun itself. “Now c’mon--we’ve got the world to tackle.” 


End file.
